


Fans

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Abuse, Domination, Lots of Sex, M/M, Violence, cocks rubbing, jealousy mixed with violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: This is a story of a special kind of men's party. Fans are used to describe interest in a person. In this case, the fans are in the hands of the men at gay parties. And it gets very specific.In 1600 thru 1800s women used fans to communicate their wishes and feelings towards men at parties. This is a take-off on it.Also, a warning. This is about dominance in it's worst form.





	1. The Parties Begin

**Author's Note:**

> All the dignitaries, Earls, Dukes etc are fictitious.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Major Character Death in the last chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft invites Sherlock to a party. And...he meets John and Frederick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very explicit sex

I must admit that I am excited about the prospect of an evening at a "special" men's club that my brother Mycroft has suggested.

This year 1845 has been significant for me. I've finished college and am finally out on my own. My father wishes me to join his lawyer business and he wants me to enter the world he inhabits. That is not my style. Way too stuffy.

My brother is seven years older, and a real man of the world. He follows the fashion trends, wines and dines with the best of the best and goes his own way. I have my flat in the heart of London and two servants.

* * *

There is a good bit of money at my disposal. Even though I am the younger of the brothers, my father has seen fit to be very generous with my allowance. This portion gives me breathing room to live the life I want.

* * *

Mycroft invites me to a party at a Club. This is the first time he has offered to take younger brother anyplace, and I feel a right of passage.

* * *

I dress with much care on the night of the affair. Mycroft said this was a 'place of keen interest.'

I'm a tall man, slim, pale skin and a curly crop of hair that I do not trim short.

People say my prominent cheekbones and fair skin set me apart. I am considered a handsome fellow.

I begin with a white shirt with a starched stiff white collar. My tight light brown trousers fit perfectly around my legs. A satin yellow and green flowered vest followed with my favorite yellow ascot. The last is the plaid dark and light green coat.

Tan leather gloves, my gold pocket watch, and my black velvet top hat round out my costume for the night. Ah, cannot forget my silk handkerchief.

* * *

Mycroft's Brougham coach shows up, and I enter and sit across from Mycroft.

* * *

Handing me an ivory fan with painted flowers on it and a document, he begins to elucidate about this venue.

          "At the Club, there will be men with similar fans. They signify different connotations depending on how you use it. The paper explains each usage. You do not have to partake in this. I will, unfortunately, be tied up for awhile with the French Ambassador. Oh, yes, there are private rooms, and I will be ensconced in one. Liquid refreshments are on my tab. Have fun!"

* * *

Upon arriving, I see it is a sitting room, large fire, dark brown everywhere. It gives it a quiet, solemn look and not to my liking.

* * *

There are ten men in the room counting Mycroft and myself.

Oh, this is a 'gay club.' Do I feel comfortable? No! I've ventured into this avenue but never for long. I prefer neither sex.

My studies, reading, the theater have always been a prime source of entertainment, but I decide to stay and see what transpires.

* * *

Just then two men enter the room. One, an elderly gentleman and the other, in his twenties by my deduction. The younger is a plaything to the older gentleman who has a tight grip around the waist of this young cub. I am taken by the younger. Feel sympathy for him.

Now, here's a challenge!

Can I entice the young man away for a short time? I stand up and wander slowly over to them. I catch the eye of the young blonde man wearing a simple white shirt, dark tan vest and trousers, and light beige coat. He nods to me, and I bow to them both.

          "My name is Sherlock Holmes." "Ah," the elder says, "I know Mister Holmes the senior, is he here?"

He looks up to see Mycroft approaching.

          "Excuse me; I want to have a talk with your brother. Introduce yourselves,"extending his hand to both of us.

* * *

Turning my back on Mycroft and the gentleman, carrying my open fan in the left hand ( _come and talk with me_ ).

          "And your name is?"

Twirling the fan in his left hand( _we are watched_ ) and in a humble but strong voice.

          " Doctor Watson here. Would you like to sit and have a drink with me?"

Running my fingers through the ribs of the fan ( _I want to talk to you_ ).

He shyly moves towards a table, and the waiter inquires about our drinks.

          "I also am just out of uni. My brother wants me to go into politics, but I despise it. Not sure what to do yet. Tell, me Doctor Watson, what do you do for sport?"

Dropping my fan ( _we could be friends_ ) I pick it up.

          "At the moment I am looking for employment at Barts Hospital. I've applied and just waiting for an answer. For sport? I enjoy cards, drinking and attending gatherings to meet all kinds of people. But this is very uncomfortable for me. I am here to keep my 'employer' company, of sorts. Although I am not against having a go with a male, this is too, how to say this, awkward." 

Nodding agreement as I scan the room, "It seems we think alike on all counts, Doctor Watson."

* * *

At which point Doctor Watson hands me his card and calmly says,"I'd love to see more of you. Every Tuesday evening if you wish at the Hound Pub. My employer goes to his club on Tuesdays, and that allows me some leeway.

* * *

Doctor Watson intrigues me. His looks, his quiet demeanor all serve to pique my interest. 

As we sit together and chat the time flies by very quickly, until Mycroft arrives back with the professor, and Doctor Watson gets up, takes the older man's arm, and they say their goodbyes.

          "Good looking chap that Doctor Watson. Be careful of his professor. We should be leaving. I'll give the club notice, and you can visit when you want."

* * *

          "Mycroft, why are you a member of a gay men's club? Isn't it rather dangerous for you in your field, the government?"

          "Have you perceived the gentlemen there? Quite wealthy and very discreet. If there should be a raid, which would never happen, the scandal would rock England."

* * *

I don't have the opportunity to visit the club, Mycroft or John Watson in the following weeks. But Doctor Watson is on my mind quite a bit.

* * *

My servant brings me the mail one day and in it is an invitation to a party at an Earl's mansion and with it a package.

I can only think it is Mycroft's influence that has me invited to this man's house. In the package, there is a fan and a letter.

          _Sherlock, this is a very unusual party. Very private. I will be there. The fan's usage is made clear in this letter. Memorize them and throw them away afterward._

* * *

Looking at the note, I'm shocked at what the fan represents.

This is more hardcore, the fans talk sex, and at first, I can't see myself involved with any of this. But, because it is Mycroft and I possibly will see Doctor Watson I decide to show my face. I am taking my carriage so if the occasion needs I can leave early.

* * *

The evening of the party I dress in gray trousers, a bright red vest, white shirt, red tie and black coat. My sack coat cut slightly different from the standard. It flares out slightly at the waist and has a red buttonhole on the collar.

* * *

I pull up in my coach to a tall, sprawling townhouse in the swankiest part of London. Stepping into the main hall, I'm led to a ballroom that would fit my entire abode.

Food, drink, and servants are there to fill every need. The room is bright with candles and a huge double fireplace with flames licking out. The shadows cast leave places for quiet and discreet rendezvous.

* * *

There are only ten men in the room, and it is easy to spot Mycroft, and we walk towards each other.

          "I do not see Doctor Watson here, or his companion."

          "Doctor Watson prefers not to attend these parties. Excuse me, Sherlock, someone waiting for me," and Mycroft saunters off to a very young blonde man, whose fan held open away from his body( _I like what I see_ ). It's a very open invitation, all can witness it.

Mycroft looks the young man up and down, takes his fan and holds it closed upwards ( _your body is tempting me_ ).

The young man laughs and pointedly looks at Mycroft and waves his fan while holding it up ( _kiss me open-mouthed_ )

Mycroft eagerly accepts the offer.

* * *

Turning away from my brother's display, it makes me uneasy, I look around and see many of the men in disarray, some of them in various stages of undress.

Uneasiness overtakes me. I think that, no I know that I don't want to be here.

* * *

I'm starting for the door when a servant walks over and quietly says to me,"Sir, are you feeling uncomfortable? Follow me."

With a sigh of relief, I follow him out of the room and down a hall to a closed door which he proceeds to open.

* * *

It's a vast, beautiful sitting room, couches and chairs abound. The tables have flowers in, I assume, expensive vases. A lit fireplace heats the room.

* * *

I look around to find a man standing, his back partially to me pouring a drink by a large sideboard.

* * *

          "Another gentleman who is unacquainted with my evening entertainment! Come, you are not the first, have a drink we can sit and converse."

He turns around and smiles, "Mister younger Holmes, have a seat. Are you surprised at your brother's proclivity? Don't be. You are not the first to walk out of that room and to this place during one of these entertainments."

I sit down in one of the dark brown leather chairs next to the lavish fireplace, the heat from the fireplace warming my face.

He sits across from me after handing me a glass of whiskey. He is older than Mycroft with a bit of gray lining the sides of his face. A slender frame as tall as I am and a narrow face with the casualness that comes with old wealth. Altogether pleasing.

* * *

          "I'm sorry, Mycroft did not warn me of this."

          "But, "the Earl states raising his eyebrows,"you did see the fans usage didn't you? What did you expect?"

          "I don't know. Not something so out in the open. Aren't you worried about the authorities?"

The Earl laughs. "Mister Holmes, there are enough 'authorities' out there not to have to worry. And with your brother especially not."

* * *

As we sit and drink the firelight plays over the Earl, and he peers deep into me. I begin to feel a warmth inside my body.

His eyes are almost the same shade of blue-green as mine.

Legs crossed, looking at me intently, he slowly uncrosses them. His eyes become hooded. My breath comes faster, my mind thinking of what he's wordlessly asking.

With his free hand, the Earl brushes his palm down his shirt, stopping at the waistband of his tan pants, his thumb catching at the buttons.

And his eyes became slits as he lowers his head down to his chest. My legs uncross, only because I feel the need to release the tension.

The light flickers, giving this scene a dreamlike quality, along with the quiet of the room and our elevated breathing.

* * *

Placing my drink down on the small table next to me, I follow his example but use both my hands. At my waist I let the first button come open and drop my eyes down to his crotch.

Humming his desire, his fingers unbutton all, and he opens the flaps wide, to expose an erect shaft.

          "Damn," l murmur under my breath.

Without hesitation he gets down on his knees, moves to me, his eyes never off mine, unbuttons me all the way, takes out my cock, unfolding it in one hand.

          "May I?"

How can I say no? I give a quick nod up and down, sinking down into my chair.

          "Ahm, oh" the only thing coming from my brain, as his eyes still focus on me and his hands caress.

          "You? What about-?"

          "Later," as my Earl's mouth entraps my cock, driving it up and down with a steady motion, his hand pursuing his mouth. The other hand lightly rubs my balls, and they tighten to bring me to a quick release, him swallowing my come. Letting my breath evolve to its normal state I watch his every move.

* * *

Back to his chair he drops his pants to his ankles. 

Picking up mine I walk to him, collect his almost full drink in my hand, kneel down, take a sip and let the liquor spill over his stiffness.

          "Oh my god, yes, please!"

His head drapes back in the chair; hands enfold into my curls, his moans deep and wild. I lick the pre-come and his tip, spreading it over his member, pulling up and down with the new slickness found. He pushes up into me,"fuck, damn, hell," and comes in my mouth.

* * *

I move back to my chair and wait to see what transpires next. So unexpected, of him, and particularly myself.

          "I should be leaving."

          "Would I be asking too much of you if I invited you to dinner sometime soon?"

          "Sir, I don't want you to think I do this, thing," as I wave my hand down to indicate what we'd just done, "at all, let alone so impetuously," as I stand to take my leave.

The older man stands, a bit shaky, "The very fact that you didn't join the others is proof of that. I fancy you and dinner will not by definition mean sex."

          "That would be most agreeable then."

Without moving, the Earl says,"if tomorrow night at five is amenable then I'll let you see yourself out."

          "Five would be delightful."

I take steps towards the door, hesitate, turn to look at him, but his back is already turned.

* * *

The next morning Mycroft pays a call. 

          "Little brother, where did you disappear to?"

          "I went home."

Not desiring to let him in on my every move, particularly with the Earl, I hoped he didn't see through me.

          " Not to your liking?"

          "Too many people, too much exhibitionism."

* * *

Mycroft snorts in his way," ah too bad. Sometimes these 'exhibitions' as you put it can be most stimulating."

* * *

          "Changing the subject, how is Doctor Watson, Mycroft? Is he under your roof yet?"

My brother putters around the room, lifting papers with his cane, peering into my liquor cabinet, making a general nuisance of himself.

          "And what makes you think that?"

          "You were making eyes at him, actually ogling him."

          "That's enough Sherlock. I'm taking my leave."

          "Ah, you came to mock me my brother, but I can't do the same?"

Mycroft storms out.

* * *

Dressed for my dinner with the Earl, I find myself apprehensive, and, truth be told, puzzled about him. What is he about?

I'm at his door on time and shown into the library before he arrives into the room. It gives me the chance to explore his extensive book collection. From history, science, philosophy and more.

* * *

          "Mister Holmes, I am glad you're here. I did think you'd cancel our dinner."

          " If I weren't accepting your invitation I would have sent word." 

And realizing I sounded abrupt I apologize.I'm quite edgy. Don't know what to imagine. No, I do know what to imagine, just not what to do about it. He ignores all of it.

          "You were admiring my book collection?"

          "Yes, I'm a lover of reading. And your library holds many exciting editions."

          "My library is yours to visit. Borrow whatever you wish.

My mouth curves into a smile, and I salute with a dip of my head.

* * *

          "Drinks first?"

I nod yes, and he pours and sits in the same chair as last night.

I can't help it, I try to suppress a laugh, but it gets away. The next thing both of us are giggling silly.

          "What happened last night-" he starts to say, stops, "well, that was then. Let's go to the dining room for dinner."

We sit at a dining table big enough to hold at least twenty people, but the Earl has placed himself at the head and me on his right side.

          "Do I still call you Earl or by your first name, Frederick?"

          "Sherlock, Frederick is fine in private."

* * *

Dinner goes well, conversation is easy between us, and after dinner, we go back to the library to continue our evening.

Frederick goes to sit in his chair, pauses and sits on the sofa. I slight giggle escapes his lips.

I stand up and wander around the library pulling out two science books and bring them to the table by the sofa.

* * *

The tenseness between us grows as I sit in the chair opposite him. Conversation stops.

I take a deep breath, get up, and sit on the sofa right against Frederick's body. Neither of us even turn to look at each other.

What do I want to do? I can say my goodnights and walk out, or, turn and kiss him.

* * *

My head goes around just as he turns to look at me. The desire I see in his eyes must reflect what is in mine. A light kiss on the lips, touching his cheek with my fingers, his hand goes to my curly hair and combs through it. I find that so provocative.

          "Damn Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?"

          "Exactly what you want me to do your royal Fredrick sir," in a mocking voice.

* * *

I say that and bow down into his lap and blow on his now cramped trouser space.

I get back up and with a libidinous quip," I will always bow to your royal equipment."

          "Oh fuck you, Sherlock, you say the nicest things."

* * *

His mouth finds my neck and bites a hard one and shoves me back onto the sofa.

          "No, no you don't." and I'm pushing him off, as he falls on the floor. I follow on top of him.

          "As my inferior, you should be on the bottom," and he rolls me over.

          "My dear master, I should be servicing you and therefore on the top", and push him under me.

At this point, we are both too ready to release without any more stimulus, and I unbutton his pants and mine, pulling them down to our ankles. Our cocks are touching each other, and I begin to rub as he moves his hips in unison with mine.

I come first and his spurts out, and our bodies stop our rocking.

* * *

Kissing those lips as he curls his fingers in my hair, I turn over and lay on my back on the floor. Both deep breathing, both with contentment on our faces.

          "This has got to stop Sherlock, I am older than you and should have some control over us." 

And he chuckles, and our laughter joins as our fingers find each other and wrap around.

          "Why don't you get one of your servants to come in and clean us up, Fred?"

Peals of giggles and snorts wrap us up in a warm togetherness.

* * *

I have never had such pleasure and enjoyment as with Frederick. We clean up and then sit for some quiet moments of contemplating each other and some small talk.

* * *

          "Sherlock, I have to be in France for about two weeks. I would love to invite you, but that would raise eyebrows. So, could you wait until I return and we will meet again?"

          "Most certainly, and it will be a long two weeks."

          "One request, please, when I return I will host another of my parties and would love for you to attend."

I look at him crookedly.

          "Why?"

          "It would give me great enjoyment to see other men admire you and for them to relish in your body."

          " This I will have to ponder, Frederick."

I take my leave with hugs and kisses and make for home.

* * *


	2. The Surprise at the Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock meets Moriarty.

Mycroft summons me to dinner the next night. Since the Earl is out of town and nothing else is brewing, I accept.

I dress very simply in a black outfit with a dark green vest. My carriage drops me off at Mycroft's townhouse, and the servant sees me in.

The parlor's ornate desk is the most outstanding item in the room.

There in full view is Mycroft and Doctor Watson.

* * *

          "Ah, Dr. Watson, how delightful to see you here", my heart thumps out a beat! He's sitting in a cushioned chair off to the side of the desk.

          " Your brother has been so kind to me and since my benefactor has been, how shall I delicately put it, removed by the law, I have been invited to stay here."

Aha, Mycroft got his wish!

He has his back to us pouring drinks, I'm sure a half-smile on that inscrutable face.

I stare intently at the doctor. What intrigues me about him I wonder?

* * *

Walking over with a drink in each hand my brother gives one to me and one to the doctor. He picks up his already full glass and sits behind the desk.

I remain standing.

* * *

          "Gentlemen, dinner will be ready shortly," Mycroft says with his eye on Doctor Watson.

          "Mycroft, I find it captivating that you and the good doctor have remotely anything to discuss."

          "Sherlock," I hear in Mycroft's voice a warning.

          "After all, your interests lie in politics and government, and Doctor Watson's is in the-," and I pause and look down at the man with a slight smile.

          "The body, so to speak."

          "Sherlock if you don't stop I will send you out."

This interplay amuses Doctor Watson, and he stands to look at Mycroft.

          "Oh, no, I'm enjoying this. My sister and I have the same dynamics as you two."

          Pray tell me, who gets the last word?"

          "That is debatable", bowing his head to each of us.

The door opens, and dinner is announced.

* * *

Dinner is quite opulent. Mycroft is a good cook himself but prefers to have a chef handy for those times when he is exhausted from his work or for dinners like tonight.

* * *

Our conversation wanders between politics, some gossip, and the local polo races.

          "Doctor Watson, what is your long-term goals now that you have undone yourself from the professor?"

Doctor Watson looks at Mycroft, and then down at his plate, and replies," Mister Holmes has invited me to stay as long as needed and I just recently found employment at the Hospital here in London. I also hope to open my practice at some time in the future."

Mycroft places a hand over Doctor Watson's, caressing it, looking at me, "Doctor Watson has been a great companion to me."

Oh, I bet, I think to myself!

* * *

After dinner, we retire to the parlor again. Mycroft excuses himself from the room for a moment.

Doctor Watson immediately says," Mister Holmes, contrary to what you believe, your brother and I have not had any intimacy at all. I think he is trying to goad you."

          "Then, Doctor Watson, let's goad him back. I would enjoy your company at my home one night. Can we plan for an evening?"

The doctor laughs and agrees to this Wednesday for drinks.

          "I'm beginning to enjoy being fought over as if there is a prize at the end."

p>          "Oh, isn't there?" I say with eyes raised.

At that moment Mycroft walks back, and the talk reverts to medical advances that have happened during this year.

* * *

Doctor Watson and I meet four times in the two weeks that Frederick is away.

* * *

Twice at my home and twice at the pub.

* * *

I find it hard not to lay hands on John. But yet find every excuse to touch him. Laying a hand on his shoulder, my fingers lingering over his while pouring coffee. My eyes devour him when he's not looking. And, sometimes I even catch a glimpse of his wanting, his need for me.

He is continually complimenting me on my observations and deductions of people and social events. It seems I cannot get enough of being with him.

But, he is Mycroft's and for now, its hands off. Besides the fact that Doctor Watson never gives much indication he wants any more than mere gazing and touching.

* * *

The Earl is home now, and within a day of being situated in England and home, he sends his servant to ask me to join him for dinner.

Joining the Earl that evening I dress with considerable care. I love my black pants, they are tight fitting and show off my legs. I wear the ruffled white shirt, dark green vest and black coat. I own a beautiful opal ring that I put on and my gold-topped cane.

* * *

As I enter the library, my heart is racing. Frederick turns to face me and his eyes light up. He takes me into his embrace, and our mouths eagerly join up. 

          "Dear Sherlock, I've missed you. Do you want to take me now or later?"

Our enjoyment is surprisingly more when making light of our arrangement.

          "Sir, I am at your service, what is your wish?"

Without any hesitation, on his part, he whispers in my ear, "let's go to my bedroom and let me show you how much I missed you"

* * *

His bedroom is very sparsely furnished, but that bed! It's a four poster and could fit six people in it comfortably. The bedding is a dark red silk with gold braiding on the coverlet. It matches the hangings for the bed.

* * *

By the bed is water, whiskey, a vial of olive oil for lubricant, condoms, and chocolates.

Our sex is at first strictly to satisfy each other as quickly as possible.

* * *

Our meal has been forgotten but both of us are hungry. Frederick has a servant bring sandwiches and tea to the bedroom.

Sitting up, trays on our laps we feed each other at first, laughter continuously erupting.

Trays down, we lie down and talk of little things, until I hear a modest snore from the Earl, and I soon follow.

* * *

What a joy to wake in the middle of the night to fingers, playing under my pants, touching, caressing, moving my limp penis.

          "You do want this don't you, my pet?" 

          "Hmm, keep going."

          "I want something more from you. I want to enter your most private chamber, claim you for myself."

          "Your royal highness is expecting much from your servant." 

          "If you are my servant then you will assist me in my orgasm. Doing what I want."

As we are speaking his hand continually manipulates my penis, forcing me to lose all coherent thought.

* * *

          "Lubricate me, my faithful man, my cock waits for your tongue."

Reaching down and pulling off his bottoms his erection is full.

Moving his legs apart I slip between them and look up at his face. In the only light left from the fading fire, I see his eyes wide, his lips begging for mine.

Teasing him I play my tongue around his thighs, down to the underside of his knees, sucking, licking, tasting the salt on him.

          "Damn, servant, what are you waiting for, do me!"

          "Master, you do me a disservice. I want to make this experience the best for you."

* * *

My lips kiss up to his round, tense balls, then a lick, then a suck.

          "Ahh, ohh, shit, damn, hell" his voice chokes and waivers.

          "Sir, tis disgraceful to hear those terrible words come from the likes of royalty."

          "Shut up you prick and suck," with a snicker in his throat.

Still looking up at his face I lick up his stem, around the tip, and down again.

Breath now deep and short, he raises his hips to thrust at me.

I push them down, lick around his prick, down and up, up and down. Slow strokes at first, then quickening.

          "Stop, "and he pushes me off him.

* * *

          "Get on your stomach, servant of mine."

The whiskey and chocolate in his hand, placing a small amount of the liquor in a glass.

          "Drink and eat. My aphrodisiacs are good, aren't they? No, don't talk, just listen to my commands."

I obey, as he grabs my hips and raises them off the bed.

He places a condom on his still thick penis and lubes it thoroughly.

* * *

I feel his fingers, now lubed, exploring my ass crack. Stroking up and down it, touching on my wrinkled hole.

Now it's my turn to moan.

          "I'm putting a finger in your ass hole, can you picture it?" I don't have to picture it, I feel it, ripping at me.

          "In your mind see the finger in all the way, and pushing and moving inside you."

          "Yes, yes, oh god, yes."

Out comes the finger, pushing myself back to try to get it in again.

          "Oh, don't worry, my pet, here comes two now."

And my hole fills with his fingers, slowly pushing in, then partially out and back in.

          "I know you can take three, and my cock will finally be the object to penetrate your ass and you'll fuck me off."

The third finger enters.

          "hooo, hell, damn ooh," moving into them, pushing my hips rearward.

He slips them out, my moans loud with disappointment.

          "Here comes my long, erect, cock," whispering with emotion.

He spreads my ass and his tip is at the entrance.

His tip is into me and each slow push is painful. I've never had a cock fully in my ass.

          "Now, my Sherlock, you do it. Work me in and out of your ass hole button."

          "No, can't go far. It hurts

          "Whatever you can. I leave it to you.

Driving my body back and forth I feel his cock move and the sensitivity rocks me. His slick lubed hand reaches under to grip my cock and as I move my hips, my cock assails his hand, giving me the friction I crave.

          "Shh, ohh," he can't stop moaning as I move.

And then...his free hand takes my hip and stops me, his cock entered slightly, and shivering, vibrating he comes in big pulsing waves.

He's spilt partly inside and over my ass.

One squeeze of my cock and I burst, splattering the sheet with my come.

I fall flat on the bed and Frederick lays on his back next to me.

* * *

          "Not bad for an old man, huh, Sherlock?"

I laugh and look over to him, giving him a big kiss.  
And we begin to giggle again, which turns into full-blown laughter.

* * *

Frederick rises up and goes to the bathroom, cleans up and comes back with a cloth to clean me.

We dump the sheet off the bed onto the floor and put the blanket on. Another blanket goes to cover us and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

At breakfast that morning Frederick lets me know he has business to take care of here in town for the next few days and won't be available.

I am disappointed but understand.

          "Next week will be my fan party, and I want you there."

          "Frederick, you know how uncomfortable I am in that situation!"

          "I will be in attendance and if you need me, find me, and we'll retire to another room."

With that in mind, I agree to go.

* * *

The evening of the party I dress in gray trousers, a bright red vest, white shirt, red tie and black coat. My sack coat cut slightly different from the standard. It flares out slightly at the waist and has a red buttonhole on the collar.

* * *

Making my way into the party with trepidation, there only seems to be six men not including me. 

How strange to have an odd number? Until I see Frederick enter the room and I breathe a sigh.

He has made this an intimate group so as not to intimidate me.

Taking a deep breath, I take the plunge by moving to a man who is my age and strikes me as familiar.

Fan held up closed( _your body is tempting me_ ).

He scrutinizes me, and raking my slender frame with his eyes, flashes an indecent look and fan held closed by his eyes( _you are arousing me_ )

The gentleman, with fan held open by crotch( _my trousers are bulging from your interest in me_ )

I purposely take my time in eyeing down his body, and sure enough, he is most aware of me.

Fan held down open, waving slowly( _take my hand and suck a finger_ ) placing my index finger on his lips.

His mouth opens to accept my finger, and he sucks heavily on it.

An intake of breath quickly taken. I'm not even aware of anyone around us as he pushes me over to a small loveseat.

          "Mister Holmes", fan held open at waist level ( _I want to touch your crotch_ )

Trying to exert some weight to push away enough to see his face again.

          "You have the pleasure of knowing me, but I don't you,"even as his lips are nipping at my neck. 

He stops, sits up and, "Mister James Moriarty."

The glint in his eyes grows as he realizes I remember him. I also now sit up.

"You were at uni with me, and at the top of your classes as I was. You..."  


          " Yes, Sherlock, I imagine you remember our one night together. You were so glorious, so debauched in that bed. One of those nights I have never forgotten."

I begin to stand, and he pulls me back down.

          "Sherlock," he whines," you've aroused me again. Here."

His hand touches his crotch, manipulating the trouser material to pronounce his erection.

          "If you don't mind I'd like to forget that incident."

Pulling away from this obnoxious character.

          "Oh, but you won't and can't. You see, you have more to lose than I. Everyone knows I'm gay. I live on the outskirts of society. But can you imagine what would happen if people found out about these 'parties' and the fact of your brother coming to them? Lie back my dear and enjoy." 

And without using the fan, he opens his trousers, and his cock is in hand.

          "In your mouth and be quick, I want to come."

* * *

Before I can move, Frederick is standing by us and in a commanding voice," Mister Holmes, I have need of your attention. You will excuse us, Mister Moriarty won't you?"

He reaches out his hand, and I accept it and move with him away from what was an alarming situation.

We move to a quiet corner of the room.

          "Something was wrong, was it not?"

          " Yes," in a faltering voice I explain the incident to Frederick.

* * *

          "It was one night, I was high on cocaine. He had always favored me and managed to get me into his bed. He continued to pursue me, but I gave him no more chances. When we left uni, he promised to find me one day, and he has."

          "I will make sure he leaves here. Go to the library, and I will meet you there in a moment."

Frederick joins me and the evening becomes an invitation to spend the night in Fredericks bed.

* * *


	3. Sherlock and Moriarty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty gets into Sherlock's house and wants sex.

I'm in the library at my home. It is evening and attired in pants, plain white shirt, and my dressing gown; I hear a commotion in the hallway, James Moriarty bursts into the room.

          "Sir, what are you doing barging into my house?"

My servant had come to the library, upset looking, but I gestured it was all right.

          "I'm here to see you and don't feel I have to be announced by anyone."

          "My servants are quite dependable and tight-lipped. Mister Moriarty, you've stated quite plainly what you want from me. Is that what you expect tonight? Do you think I'll just give in to your wish? You know I'm not interested in your little foolishness."

          "Why not?" You have just a few weeks with me, and then I'm leaving for America, and may not be back for a year."

* * *

Putting my book on the table, he steps closer to me.

          "The last time it was drugs that made you so accessible. How about liquoring you up? Would that do the trick?"

That sneer, that slyness. Being the same age as I am he is well turned-out. I recall him spending time in the gymnasium, and puffing up for the women, at that time no one realized he was gay.

Why am I even thinking about being with him? I should turn him down. But I'm bored, and he's a welcome diversion. I'm overstimulated after being at the polo game and can't quiet myself down.

* * *

          "Jim, let's get it over with. Don't need any wine, thank you."

          "Oh, that's not very enthusiastic! You sound so spiritless, so unenthused. The last time I seem to remember you being all over me. Couldn't keep your hands and cock away from my body. How about a gentleman's agreement?"

          "And by that, sir you are implying that you are a gentleman?" I very bitingly reply, with a slight laugh.

          "A shake hands contract. If you come to me with passion, if you're engaged in our little playtime, then I will leave you to your own devices after tomorrow."

          "Why so easy Jim?"

          " You're not coming to me of your own free will. As much as I still want you, it's now just the satisfaction of being able to say I fucked you again. There're many gay men out there willing to put their asses out for me. So much more uncomplicated than this."

Here he laughs, "I still want Sherlock's ass. So?" and his hand goes out.

I take it, and to his surprise, I pull him into me.

          "You want to fuck me? Here, make it hard!" as my hand pulls his hand down to the buttons on my pants. 

          "Go ahead, show me how much you want me."

* * *

"Now that's what I expect, you naughty man. I always knew you had a perverse streak in you." 

His hand pulls away from me.

* * *

          "First, a drink for you. As a matter of fact, I'll have one also."

The sideboard has a decanter of whiskey, and I give both myself and Jim full glasses.

We raise the glasses and clink, and both of us take large swigs of the liquor.

I take another sip, walk to Jim, put my mouth to his and let the liquid drip into his open mouth.

          "Oh damn, when you do something you do it right."

His lips then move in for another kiss. Our tongues collide, and I press my body close, very close to his. My trousers are achingly tight now.

He leans back, takes a sip from his glass and repeats my action with his mouth, but this time, licking my lips, biting hard enough to draw blood.

* * *

We both shuffle away from each other, but our eyes continue our direct contact with our faces.

          "What do we do now? I presume this is what you have been waiting for all these years, Mister Moriarty."

Tightness crawling in my voice, my hand squeezing the glass firmly.

          "Up to your bedroom, my good man. Let's make sport of it."

* * *

Once inside the bedroom, Jim stands at the foot of the bed, shirt opens, pants unbutton, giving a look with hooded eyes.

I want this over with, but, the notion of having him at my command is both flattering and rousing.

That does it! Flinging off the dressing gown, I stride towards him while unbuttoning my pants.

* * *

I close the distance, my shirt comes off and as I near Jim his shirt hits the floor.

My chest collides with his, mouths tangling, tongues flinging in and out, lips biting, sucking, making our breathing audible to anyone in the near vicinity.

"Yes, Sherlock, this is what I want, you breathless in my arms, giving me all of you."  
I don't reveal to him that of a sudden I hunger for him. He has a magnetic something, gives off an animalistic, seductive feel.

* * *

His fingers wrap into my curly hair, tugging me, wrapping me in his arms. 

          "Sherlock, Sherlock, oh, want this," he mutters, running my fingers lightly over his chest and arms.

* * *

          "On the bed on your back," commanding him.

Surprisingly he moves without a response other than to push me slightly away, and turn to light on the bed.

I can see the dark hairs pushing up from his loosened pants and still covered erection.

I move onto the bed, my tongue lashing out to the pubic hairs and blow my breath onto his pants and see him visibly twitch with the warmth.

His fingers again tangle into my curls, his body arching up to me.

          "Jim, you want me to suck you, tell me you do."

          "No, no! Oh yes, anything, just do it!"

* * *

His pants are pushed below his knees, then off him, and I spread his legs.

          "Want you, Sherlock, to feel you taking me, to remember you."

He says this as he sits up, pushing me on my back on the bed and removes my pants. And takes up a position over me and our cocks meet.

Both of us exploding out our breaths as the movement gives the friction our tender but rock hard shafts need to release the pressure and the liquid inside.

Within moments each of us has let go, and our bodies relax. Jim rolls off of me.

* * *

I can tell each of us is sifting through all the jumble going on in our heads.

          "Whatever you had in mind I'm sure this wasn't it, Jim."

          "No, no, Sherlock. It was more than I expected from you. Want to spend the night and have another go before the day is here."

Why not? Can't hurt to let him have some entertainment! Especially since I can take my pleasure also.

We clean up and then under the duvet to sleep.

* * *

Sometime during the early night, I am awakened, lying on my back, feeling a moist something on my soft cock.

I raise my head to notice it's Jim, stretched out on his stomach beside me, his face near, no it's on my cock.

I could barely make out what he's doing because the fire has died in the fireplace.

But his tongue tells me enough of what he's trying to accomplish, and he was succeeding well.

* * *

          "Jim." 

Before I could say more, he speaks, "You're going to get hard and stay that way while you service me. And, if you do well, I'll let you come, maybe on your body, maybe into my mouth.  
You'll do as I say or suffer. Are you ready for me?" strong, hard words coming out of his mouth.

          "Jim, stop this! You're assuming too much now!"

          "Oh no, you WILL be mine. And now!"

          "See, this is what I'm going to do," as he moves up the bed, straddling my shoulders, and takes his stiff cock in his hand right at my face. 

I turn my head.

He grasps my jaw, turns me to him, and slaps my face with force.

          "Look at my dong. See how it waits for you? Take my baby in your mouth. Suck my big binky soother."

          "I can stop you, by force if needed."

          "Oh come on Sherlock, you're just as worked up as I am. Bet you never had anyone force themselves on you or command you?"

He's saying all this as his hand is working on his dick.

          "Here, baby, take it in your mouth, run your tongue over my shaft, stick it down your throat."

Grabbing my jaw with a hand, he pushes my mouth open and shoves his shaft into me. I choke, gagging. Trying to overturn him, my arms are held under his thighs, and I can't throw him over.

* * *

Jim leans in making sure I can't pull him out, and I feel his balls on my jaw.

          "Come on, baby, lick it good. Want to make sure you take good care of me." 

He's rocking back and forth, talking this nonsense, keeping one hand on his cock to steady it in my mouth, balls bouncing over my chin.

          "Shit, shit," groaning, he comes full force down my throat. 

Gagging as the liquid runs into my throat and out onto my face, tears from it wetting my cheeks.

He pushes off me his voice shaky, getting off the bed.

          "Now get yourself off. I've had you."

That remark so turns me off that my cock draws in and lies flat.

* * *

He's taking a shower and that gives me time to think. To understand what I want from this person. I want him out of my life.

* * *

          "Right now, James Moriarty, I want you to leave. To leave and never come back."

          "Sherlock Holmes, you are fooling yourself. In me, you see the opposite of you. Deep down in that heart of yours you want, no yearn to feel free. To know your gayness without shame."

          "I have a deal to make. Would you like to join me in America for a year while I tend to business? I have the house of a friend to use. It is in the middle of Manhattan New York. The season will be underway there. What do you say?"

* * *

He struts around my chair, leaning his head over mine, entangling his hands in my curly hair and whispering in my ear,"Come on baby, you know you want to. With me, you'd be free lose your inhibitions. Give it all to me. Let's see what Sherlock Holmes has inside him."

* * *

What did I have to keep me here? The Earl and I can never be more than occasional sex partners. Doctor Watson, whom I had some connection to, apparently is not interested in me.

I must say that Jim Moriarty is irresistible! In a strange, cold way.

          "Yes, why not. I will join you."

* * *


	4. Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One last London party and farewells

Before sailing to New York with Jim Moriarty, I receive an invitation to attend another fan party at the Earls house. It read 'I will be in the room with you.' I respond that I would love to come and could I invite a friend.

The returning note was 'I am surprised by both, but yes.'

* * *

I dress in my favorite tight black pants, a purple shirt, black vest and a white coat with gold buttons on it.

Jim is dapper looking in his dark green pants, pale green shirt, a green vest with gold threads running through, and a matching coat.

* * *

Jim and I show up with fans in hand and Frederick, meeting us at the door, is taken aback. 

Once inside the room he quickly takes me aside,"I thought you didn't want him near you?"

          "That has changed, and I am sailing next week with him to New York. No questions asked, please."

Frederick walks away seemingly disturbed by this news.

* * *

There are only ten men, and I recognize two of them besides Frederick.

Jim and I had talked it over beforehand and agreed to partner with others if we wanted to.

* * *

Sure enough, one of the men I recognized from the last party moves across the room and straight to me. 

Fan held down closed ( _your arse looks tempting_ )

It should be in these pants, I jokingly think to myself.

I don't get a chance to respond before he takes his fan held closed in hand ( _I want to feel your arse_ )

I turn around and let his hand squeeze my ass, molesting it.

Understanding what Jim is trying to tell me, I am going at this full force.

Now facing the gentleman and looking down fan held open at waist level ( _I want to touch your crotch_ )

I see Jim, across the room, with his pants down and cock in the air.

* * *

The gentleman next to me taps me on the shoulder to remind me he is there. He stares intently at me and fan held open waving quickly ( _can I unbutton your trousers_ )

I show my consent and shaking slightly he manages to get the buttons undone and pulls the pants down to my knees.

I tap him with my fan to get his attention and with fan held open in hand ( _if you suck mine, I'll suck yours_ )

I lean against the wall as his mouth goes around my cock. Keeping my eyes open I can see Jim has his mouth shoved with cock; another man is on the sofa and getting a hand job.

This exhibitionism is titillating and fueling my imagination, I come so, so quickly. I then unbutton him and take steps to see his cock orgasm in my mouth.

* * *

Buttoning up I go to Frederick who is leaning against the entrance door, taking it all in, not participating. 

          "Tell me why this change of heart?"

I can see the disappointment and concern in him.

          "Jim and I met again, after here, and we found we mutually like each other. As a matter of fact, I'm joining him in America for a year."

          "Rather a hasty move, isn't it?"

His attitude is beginning to annoy me. He has no rights over me.

          "Yes, but tickets have been purchased. If things go bad, I can always come back, and it's a year only."

At this point Jim walks in on the conversation, possessively taking my arm," Are we ready to leave?"

          " Can I have a moment alone with Mr. Holmes?"

Jim acquiesces, and we walk out to the library.

* * *

Standing by the fireplace, his eyes narrowed, brow furrowed.

          "I don't understand your reasoning."

          "There's someone I care tremendously about, but he doesn't return my affections. This will remove me from him, allow my feelings to cool down."

          "Sherlock," his arm out, to push me away. He must think I'm talking about him. I know he cares, but couldn't return it outwardly. His family would not condone this relationship.

Turning away and out to Jim, I walk with a heavy step.

* * *

          "Good friend of yours?"

          "Yes, Jim, and a real gentleman."

Jim harumphs, takes my arm, kisses me and finds a cab to take him home. I don't offer my carriage, and he doesn't ask.

* * *

The day before departure I travel to Mycroft's house. When I tell him of my plans, he scoffs at it.

          " You are a damn fool to think that man will treat you with respect.

          "It's my decision."

He grimaces, picking up a pen and getting the address from me.

* * *

          " I'll be keeping watch on you. I have agents in New York."

          "Mycroft, I can take care of myself."

          " We'll see. A drink for a good voyage and good times in America?"

We take a drink of whiskey, clink glasses and I leave. I was hoping to see John but was not going to ask for him.

* * *

That evening, a knock on the door and John is let in and into my study.

          " I would have thought you would make it your business to say farewell to me. I'm disappointed."

How can I tell him that I have deep feelings for him and he's the reason I'm leaving?

          "Why, disappointed? You have my brother to take care of your every need," sarcastically saying.

John heads for the door, ready to walk out.

          "Goodbye Sherlock, have a fantastic time," just as acerbic as I.

          "No, wait a minute John," as I grab his arm,"I didn't mean that!"

John stops, turns to face me, body wavering towards me, then puts his hand out for a handshake.

          "Good luck, Sherlock. See you when you get back."

I take his hand, and we hold on a bit longer than we should.

          " Bye John, take good care of yourself," and he leaves.

* * *


	5. In America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Jim are in America.

A very uneventful trip across the Atlantic, with good weather and good seas it took only five days.

* * *

Disembarking the ship, our luggage is taken care of; we hire a carriage to take us to our home for the duration of our stay.The townhouse we're renting, servants and all, is located right across from Central Park in Manhattan.

* * *

We settled in for our stay, and the first evening we ate a light meal and got acquainted with our lodgings, the servants and the rooms.

* * *

Jim and I settle into a routine, which involves my being on my own most of the time.

Jim is out almost all day and most evenings. I'm all alone in this city.

* * *

There is a lot to see and I find myself in the museums most days. An adventure, but without someone to discuss and comment there is not that much enjoyment out of my visits.

* * *

Two weeks later an invitation comes for dinner, from a man that Mycroft knows well and that will help Jim with his business dealings.

Dressing very conservatively, not knowing how Americans turn out we take off in the carriage.

* * *

We get met at the door of a large two-story house by the owner, Henry McNamara.

          "Can't stand all the formality of having a butler answer the door. Do come into the drawing room and meet my wife."

Introductions made to Bertha, the talk turns to our ocean travels and our stay here in the States.

* * *

Dinner is fantastic, and the conversation proceeds without much trouble.

Taking in the fact that Jim needs these people I keep my observations and comments to a minimum.

Bertha does mention a few single ladies that she would like to invite to our next dinner, and neither of us does anything to dampen the suggestion.

After dinner, Bertha excuses herself, and we go into the drawing room to have drinks.

* * *

          "Cigars, gentlemen? Not sure of the customs in your country, but here cigars are most popular."

Both of us decline the cigars but take him up on a superb brandy.

          "Mister Moriarty, Mister Holmes, I know of certain 'places'," he emphasizes that word, "which you can go to in safety while here. Some clubs to congregate at. My wife knows nothing of this or my inclinations if you gather my meaning."

          "That is an understanding we both have and we appreciate your thoughtfulness," Jim states.

          "Be very careful who you deal with Mister Moriarty. After all, this country was founded by Pilgrims," and he chuckles.

Our evening ends, and we head back to our house.

* * *

The next morning our man brings a letter from Mr. McNamara. 

          _This Thursday, six pm at the Grand Club, Avenue A. dress very casually. No 'women'._

          "Well, Sherlock, what do you think? Shall we give it a go?"

          "Why not Jim. I was getting bored sitting here in the house. You've been away a good amount of the time."

          "Getting business done, getting business done. The only way we can afford to stay here. But, you should visit some of the museums in town."

          "I have and I'm fed up with old fossils. How about some healthy moving bones?" as my body moves closer to him.

          "Sherlock, we've been over this before. Try to maintain some sense of propriety while outside our bedroom."

I push Jim away and start to walk when his arm catches mine.

          "Why are you fucking walking away from me?"

I glare at him. Since we arrived here, I've hardly seen or heard from him. Our bedrooms adjoin, and yet that door has yet to be opened.

          "You're fucking someone aren't you Jim?"

          "Let's go upstairs and talk this out."

* * *

Up in the bedroom I have chosen for myself I sit on a chair and wait.

Hands on his hips, he stalks around, his face frowning, not too pleased at the moment.

          "I'll be very candid with you. I did fuck one woman, yes a woman, but it was to get some very explicit information from her. Other than that my cock has been clean."

          "Did you get it? The information?"

          "Yes," with a chortle and a grin.

          "Must have been damn good to get information that quickly."

Jim chuckles, "It took an all-night fucking and no sleep to get it."

My expression sour, voice shrill.

          "That's my Jim for you. Ready with a hard-on anytime you need."

          "You think I enjoyed fucking a woman?"

          "Fucked anyone else recently?" jealousy in my every note.

          "Come here my baby. You've been neglected and daddy needs to comfort you."

Getting up I push him on the bed, and I finally spend time with Jim, even if it is only for sex.

* * *

We dress in navy blue suits with blue shirts, and I in a white tie and Jim in a black tie for our engagement at the Grand Club.

* * *

The Club is a small building on a street that houses mostly industrial buildings.

The only acknowledgment of it's being other than a storefront is the word 'Club' in gold letters on the door.

We knock on the door, a man opens it enough to peer out and announcing our names, we're both immediately let in.

Jim sees Mister McNamara, sitting on the edge of an armchair, drink in hand, conversing with a bald man, and walks straight to him with me following in his footsteps

* * *

          "Gentlemen, good to see you here."

          "All the men in this room are gay. So feel free and open. But, keep in mind that each man's sworn to secrecy about this place and each other."

Jim rubs his hands together in a manner I find off-putting. And sure enough, without waiting, he heads off to a lone gentleman standing by a window.

          "Go ahead Mister Holmes and mingle. Your partner has wasted no time," tittering, he turns his back to his partner.

* * *

I'm furious. He's leaving me alone again. Before I can do anything, a tall, blonde man appears by my side.

I say that because I am considered a large man, and he is at least a head taller.

His right hand is holding a drink, and his left reaches to my curly hair and combs his fingers through it.

          "Damn, you are hot! Would love to have a taste of you!"

His forthrightness is stimulating. His stance one of complete confidence in himself.

He has green eyes and is muscular, probably in his twenties.

          "Would you like a drink, from my glass or your own?" as his eyes twinkle with amusement and hunger.

          "Your glass would suit me fine." 

I take hold of his hand and tip the glass and drink the liquor all the while staring into those eyes, inviting him, daring him.

* * *

          "My name is Franklin, never mind last names. I'd love to have you for a quick lunch tomorrow, double entendre intended. Are you available from one to four? If not, two to five? Name it, I'm yours, or you're mine. Have it either way."

Even though this is getting slightly out of hand, I decide to accept since I probably won't see Jim much.

Besides which, this man is appealing and attractive to boot.

          "I'm Sherlock Holmes and whenever you say will be fine with me. One to four is sounding doable."

He gives me his card and before he moves away his tongue brushes my lips.

* * *

Damn! I'm hard! I want Jim! Could have had Franklin, but still leery of having sex so open for anyone to see.

* * *

jim's nowhere to be seen in the room. I head outside, grab a carriage and head home. If this is the way it's going to be for the rest of our stay here I have no idea why I came.

* * *

Next afternoon I hire a carriage to Franklin's house. It's small, but still in a good part of town. I get led to a bright dining room with lots of windows looking out over a well-kept lawn.

Franklin enters, and without acknowledging me by talking, he kisses me roughly.

I pull away, flustered by this open display.

          "Mister Holmes, Sherlock isn't it? I presume you're here because you found me attractive. I don't like to mince words or deeds. I would love to fuck your body. Now do you want to play or not?"

          "Well, Franklin, I'm astonished by your forwardness and find this is not only intriguing but very, whatever you want to call it. And yes, my given name is Sherlock. In England, we are more conservative as to our sexual desires."

          "We are the same here. But, you were at the Club and so you've shown what you enjoy. Openly."

I agree, with a gleam and face upturned to his.

          "Good, now that the formalities are over we can enjoy lunch and discuss our inclinations."

* * *

At a small but delicious lunch, Franklin says,"I've heard that you and Jim Moriarty are here for business. "No friends or acquaintances?"

          "None, and it's mostly for Mister Moriarty that we're here. I am just a companion to him."

          "So you're lonely during the day. Does he keeps you very busy at night?"

His gaze is penetrating and inquiring.

I don't answer him but continue to eat."

* * *

          "Sherlock, your looks are striking. They stimulate mostly my, can I say it, cock? How about the two of us entertaining each other? Oh, I don't just mean fucking. I would love to show you Manhattan. What say you?"

That's surprising! I thought it would be all jumping into bed. I light up with that idea.

          "Franklin, you're also to my liking both in looks and your desires. My days are yours."

* * *

He pulls his chair away from the table and pushes my plate toward the center. 

          "I think I'd like some sex now. Don't worry about the servants. They're accustomed to my habits."

He sits on the table where my plate and utensils were, unbuttons his pants, pulling his hard cock out.

          "You can refuse me right now if this is too sudden for you. I'll handle myself, or you can suck me off. I'll reciprocate."

That is so quick and above board that I harden instantly.

* * *

My mouth goes around his cock, sucking and licking. Within a few minutes, moaning out loud, not worried about anyone hearing, his come is on my tongue.

          "Stick your tongue out," he breathlessly says. 

I do so, and he mouths it off, his tongue laving at mine.

* * *

          "Get on the table. Let me see your wonderful manhood." 

As he slides off, I sit on the warm spot his body left, after taking down my trousers and pants.

Fondling my 'manhood' he twirls his thumb over my tip, my pre-come wetting him.

          "Yes, beautiful. A wonder to see. Warm, big and ready to enjoy life."

His mouth works wonders on me, groaning my own loud noises, shaking with the thrill of this, I loosen my juices into his mouth.

* * *

After settling down and cleaning up, we move to his drawing room.

          "I'm having a fan party next week. Do you know what that is?"

Surprised to hear that type of idea is known even here I am amused.

          "Oh yes, I've attended some in England."

          " I'll have the particulars sent to you along with a fan. Do you want to invite your Mister Moriarty?"

          "Yes, I do, "almost reluctantly.

          "See you then," as we kiss.

I take myself home to an empty house, again.

* * *

The next day we receive the invitation to the fan party.

At dinner, I show it to Jim.

          "I would love to attend," as he looks at it and then at me.

          "And what is this relationship you are forming? Who is this Franklin DeMarco?"

          "I met him at the Grand Club and had lunch with him," seeing Jim is upset I'm careful how I phrase this.

I study Jim carefully. He holds himself stiffly, and I know he's terribly annoyed.

          "Jim, you're gone all day, and I have nothing to do. Franklin offered to show me the sights of Manhattan,"pleading my case.

* * *

His face darkening, he stands up and throws the wine in his cup at me.

With a strangled voice he says,"Follow me."

* * *

Into the bedroom we go, he shoves me towards the bed. I push back; he hits the desk, stumbling, he recovers, his temper fully visible. Moving to stand toe to toe with me he slaps me twice across the face.

I lose my footing and go down on my knees. Jim pushes me to the floor and then mounts me. Trying to move from under him his mouth comes down hard on mine, sucking my lips, biting and tearing the skin.

* * *

Letting my body relax to gain some time and control, one hand of his grabs my trousers and tries to undo the buttons.

          "No. no, not like this! Not angry!"

I push and try to roll him off. But he's agile and before I get up his leg crosses around my waist, and he sits on me.

His hand works my buttons, my arms flailing, trying to get purchase to stop him.

His own buttons are undone, and both our cocks are stiff and out.

Jim stops what he is doing, his eyes dilated, his heart beating heavy.

I'm as stimulated as he is.

* * *

Leaning on me, his mouth again comes on mine, sucking, tonguing, and I respond to him. Our bodies are rocking, sliding with clothing still on but cocks are touching. He comes with a breathlessness and moans into my neck. We continue the rhythm until I come, releasing onto our clothing.

Jim rolls off me, and we lie there. I don't want to say anything. Let him initiate this conversation.

* * *

Jim rises, goes to the bathroom to clean and brings a flannel to me.

          "Sherlock, I'm sorry. So sorry, I was blinded by jealousy. If you want to see this Franklin you can."

          "The violence is not needed, Jim."

His arms go around me, and his touch on my face is gentle.

          "Please, please forgive me? My baby, I'm so sorry."

He rocks me in his arms, hands over my back, petting me, tiny kisses on my cheeks.

I smile and nod yes.

* * *

For the next two days, Franklin takes me on a tour of Manhattan, mainly the science museum. He's a wealth of information and knowledge and we find much common ground.

Of course, a carriage ride through Central Park at night is beautiful, a blanket on our laps hides our playfulness with one another.

Franklin is very considerate, and our sex is very limited. It's more the company of each other that is becoming the driving force to our relationship.

* * *

I avoid Jim as much as I can until the night of the fan party. I'm in my room dressing, and Jim enters. I haven't seen him in three days. Since that last incident.

          "Going out again, are you?"

I'm not challenging him on the nights he's spent out.

          "Tonight's the fan party, and I'm going. Aren't you? Didn't you remember?"

          "I don't have the rules or a fan. Didn't get them."

          "There were two sent. I have them right here. I kept yours with mine."

          "I'll get dressed, and we'll go together."

He doesn't seem too eager.

* * *

In the carriage, I give Jim his fan and his instructions.

          "They look almost like the ones we had in England." Are you sure you want to do this, Sherlock? I know how reluctant you were the last time."

          "Jim," I look him in the eye as I say this," I'm so unprincipled now, what difference does it make."

With that faint smirk on his face that I now know means ill, he puts his hand on my crotch,"let's see you walk in with a big bulge on you."

* * *

Once in the house, Franklin walks out of the sitting room to greet Jim and me.

          "Welcome to you both." 

He looks amused to see my trousers in the state they are.

He's way to polite to make a quip about it.

* * *

          "It's a small group," he utters as he leads us into the room.

          "If you want privacy at any time feel free to go up to the bedrooms. The open doors are the ones usable."

I do understand that he's mainly talking to me. About leaving if I'm not comfortable with the situation.

* * *

There are three other men now making us six total.

One already has his cock hanging out of his unbuttoned trousers.

No one is attending him, and Jim heads to him, and his fan open in hand ( _I'll suck yours if you suck mine_ )

I don't look any further other than to see Jim go on his knees, cock in mouth.

* * *

A heavy-set man, in his forties, comes to me as I sit in one of the chairs. Fan held open away from body ( _I like what I see_ )

My fan is held closed away from body ( _you are not what I want_ )

He nods and fan up by his hair ( _let me suck you off even if you don't like me_ )

I unbutton my trousers, and my now flaccid member pops out. Down on his knees, his hands work my cock. I don't feel anything, so I stop him.

          "So sorry, but not interested."

          "I can plainly see that."

He frowns and leaves me.

* * *

There is another slight, wiry-built man sitting in a chair across from me. 

As soon as the heavy-set man moves from me, he gets up and does something very different from what I've seen other men do at these shindigs.

He leads with his hips in an undulating dance as he slithers toward my chair. His fan is open in front of his face framing his eyes, which are oozing sex.

The fan position is saying 'I want your body naked.'

Standing in front of me his hips jut out, and his crotch bulge is almost on my face. I reach towards it and blow a breath.

          "Ahhh, yes. You gorgeous hunk. Let's not mess with these fans. Come upstairs and have a fantastic fuck session with me."

I don't know how to handle this. Too forward.

* * *

"No thanks."

          "Aww, then would you agree to let me fuck your ass right here in this setting?"

          "Why aren't you using your fan? Isn't what this is about?"

          "Oh damn, if you insist on it!" 

Fan held down open ( _can I fuck your ass_ )

Fan held down at side. ( _please go away_ )

He's standing so close to me I can't get up without physically pushing him off.

I try to look for Jim to rescue me, but it seems like he and the man he was with are gone.

Franklin is half naked on the sofa with a man.

          "Please get out of the way so I can stand up."

          "Make you a deal. Suck me off, and I'll let you go."

Getting disgusted I push him hard enough he loses his balance, almost falling to the floor, and I stand.

* * *

There's an amazing transformation in him. He's pouting like a child!

          "Okay, okay, let me suck you, and we'll call it quits."

"Sir, I am not interested. It has nothing to do with you. I don't like these parties anyway. Excuse me."

* * *

I walk out of the room and stand in the hall, very frustrated.

          "He's a tough one to get used to, but boy can he blow you!"

I jump, not noticing there is a person standing nearby. It's the heavy-set man.          "He's a dancer, and you should let him try you. His technique is wild."

          "No thanks," as I look at him, wondering why he's not inside.

          "Not enjoying this are you?"

          "No, I've tried these parties a few times but don't enjoy the group thing."

Turning around his hand signals me, "Let's go into the dining room for some privacy. Not for sex unless you want it."

* * *

Once in the dining room, he extends his arm and says, "Name is Jason Rockefeller. A Rockefeller way down the line."

Clasping his hand in a firm handshake, "Sherlock Holmes."

          " Is your brother Mycroft Holmes?" 

When I shake my head, yes, he smiles, "I met him a few times. Very hard to forget him."

          "Since the party is not to your liking let me try to lighten your night," and he advances on me. "I'd like to have sex with you. You are one fantastic looking man. No ass fucking. "Yes or no?"

Don't know what to answer. I am not attracted to him, but you never know what excitement he holds.

I bow my head yes.

* * *

          "Without discussing, I insist you get rid of your pants right now and quickly." 

His voice is commanding, and it holds me to him.

He takes from his pocket a bottle of lube and then removes his pants. Sitting in a chair, he lubes his cock well.

          "No, I did say no ass fucking. Trust me on this. We'll both enjoy. Now take one of the chairs and place it right front of me."

I do as he instructs.

          "The seat is facing towards me. Come sit on my lap holding onto the edges of the empty seat." 

He lines up his cock between my ass crack and one lubed hand comes around my front to clasp the tip of my cock.

          "Instructions for you. As you move down toward my lap, you'll find my cock will hit your ass hole and balls, and as you move away, your cock will move up and down in my hand."

His one hand is on my hip to guide me. I'm so worked up I can't breathe, I can't do anything but move.

His cock moves along my ass as I go to sit on him, and the sensation is so erotic. I move forward, and my cock comes in and out of his half-closed hand. I begin my rocking back and forth, and the sensation I'm feeling is so startling I'm moaning and shaking.

* * *

          "Stop," 

He takes the hand, the one not on my cock and inserts, very slowly, a well-lubed finger into my ass.

          "Oh, oh, shit!" 

Sensations like electric currents run through me.

          "Now start moving again."

          "Oh god, ohhh, " as his finger moves in my ass to my rhythm and it's too overwhelming.

I come all over his hand. And with a few more strokes his come is leaking over my ass and balls.

* * *

His finger removed, I lean back against him.

          "And what did you say the other man, that dancer, can do?"

I'm speechless over this technique.

He bites my ear and whispers into it.

          "Surprises are always around the corner if you only look. And it's not always the slim good-looking men that can surprise you."

I stand up and find a cloth napkin and wipe myself and him off.

* * *

It takes a few minutes to return my emotions to normal and to dress.

          "Shall we get back to the party, then?" 

I nod in agreement, but reluctantly.

* * *

We go back to the sitting room. Franklin is standing by the fireplace with a drink in hand. And he looks at me inquisitively. I shake my head yes indicating I'm all right.

I don't see Jim anywhere.

Franklin strolls over.

          "Your Jim was looking for you, and when he couldn't find you, he left, not too happy. 

But I see you met Mister Rockefeller. He is a man full of surprises."

          "Yes, one can see that," we smile in our understanding.

          "Maybe best I leave."

          "When will I see you next?" Franklin asks as his hand caresses my cheek.

          "I'll send a message around." 

I lean in and kiss him.

* * *

Mister Rockefeller is outside of the room, in the hall and notices me.

          "Do you need a ride home? I think your friend left in your carriage."

          "That would be so gracious of you."

* * *

In the carriage his hand rests high up on my thigh.

          "Would you let me kiss you?"

I smile because he gives the impression of being gentle and his voice is considerate and compassionate. I know the Rockefellers can be a domineering lot.

          "Yes of course."

Our kisses become intense.

          "Well, Sherlock Holmes, I think our friendship could be extended outside of these parties?"

          "I agree. It would be most enjoyable."

We say our goodnights, and I head inside.

* * *

No sooner in the door then I get hit across my face with Jim's hand. Twice. So hard it spins me around.

My hand impulsively goes to my now reddened and hurting face.

          "What now?" I yell.

          "You left the room, you went with some mother fucker and didn't tell me," the rage boiling.

          "You left me, and I didn't know where you were. What's the difference?"

          "Get upstairs," he hollers.

          "No, not going to have you beat me up."

Grabbing me by my shirt, he tries to propel me into the drawing room.

I shove him away and in the melee, my shirt buttons tear off.

          "Get in the fucking room." he stands breathless, anger pouring out of him.

          "Don't touch me," as I walk in, turn and look at him.

He picks up a vase, and before I can move out of the way, it's thrown at my head, hitting on the temple.

I fall to the floor in a daze.

He's kicking and punching me, and I'm so in shock I can't move.

I lay there covering my body as best as I can.

          "Oh my god, what have I done? Oh, oh, let me help you, are you hurt, did I hurt you, what can I do?"

Jim is weeping, wringing his hands.

Barely able to stand I look at him in shock.

And, finding my legs, I run fast out of the house as he's screaming, "where are you going, come back here."

I run down the street looking for a cab, finding one I hail it.

* * *

I give the driver Franklin's address and furiously knock at the door when I arrive.

His man comes, sees me, looks at me shocked and lets me enter while calling for Mister DeMarco.

It's obvious he was asleep as he walks in with a dressing gown over his nightshirt and is barefoot.

          "What in the world Sherlock! Let's go into the kitchen. You're dripping blood."

Once in the kitchen, it turns out my head is bleeding, the vase cutting open a few places on my forehead and cheeks, and my side hurts from Jim's kicking

* * *

Franklin cleans me up as I relate what ensued at the house. 

          "Your wounds are nothing extreme. But, Sherlock, you have to leave him. I'd offer my house, but we know he'll show up. Wait, I have an idea!"

With that, he calls his man in.

          "Get my pants and shirt and shoes, please. If anyone comes to this house looking for Mister Holmes, you know nothing. Also, get my carriage."

I sit quietly, glad to be away from Jim. Away from the chaos that's becoming my life with him.

* * *

          "Don't ask questions now, just follow me"

* * *

We arrive at a large house a few streets away from my own house.

Franklin knocks on the door and a butler answers.

          "I'm Mister DeMarco, and this is Sherlock Holmes. I know the hour is late, but it's a matter of importance, an emergency. Can you get Mister Rockefeller for us?"

Oh, I now know whose house this is!

* * *

Jason Rockefeller hurries into the room we've been shown to, still buttoning his shirt.

          "What's the reason...," stops as he sees my head bandaged and my forlorn look.

Franklin explains all, and without hesitation he exclaims,"Of course you can stay here. My wife will be thrilled to have company in the house."

I look up in surprise.

Jason grins, "Sherlock, my wife does know of my appetites and even takes to dressing as a man. I'm assuming you left without any clothes or toiletries?"

          "Yes, and no money to get back to England. I'm not staying any longer with him."

          "Let Mister DeMarco, and I take care of that."

          "Oh, I cant."

          "Yes you can. No hesitation about it. No questions."

          "But I'll pay you back when I get home."

          "Right now, I suggest something to help you sleep and then to a soft bed."

I agree and kiss Franklin good night and follow Jason up the stairs to a bedroom.

He watches as I undress and I see his hardness.

          "No, not tonight, Sherlock, you need to rest. But, would you be so kind to stroke me a little?"

As I lie in bed, he leans over it standing and exposes his dick.

My hand reaches out to him and fondles both dick and balls. I'm surprised when pulls away, takes out a handkerchief from his robe and with a few strokes of his hand he comes into the white linen.

* * *

Next morning there is clothing laid out on the chair. I dress and head downstairs to find the dining room, and there are Jason and his wife.

          "Mistress Rockefeller, let me introduce you to my friend, Mister Holmes."

She nods and says, "welcome to our home. My husband told me of your unfortunate plight, and you are welcome here in our house until you go back to London. Sit and have some breakfast and we'll discuss how to get you on your way."

* * *

It seems the Rockefellers are only too happy to help me. Jason had already sent a man out to find when the next boat was leaving. He also arranged for me to acquire clothing and money.

* * *

Franklin joins us later in the day to inform me that Jim had indeed stopped by his house but Franklin told him my whereabouts were not known to him. We spend a pleasant afternoon playing cards. Going out was not a good idea at this point.

* * *

Franklin was invited to dinner but refuses. I see a look go between the two men. I began to understand that Jason wants me alone.

* * *

After dinner with him and his wife, she retires to her room, and that leaves us alone.

          "I'm not asking you to do anything because you think it's owed me. But, I would love a repeat of our escapade together. What do you say?"

Instantly hard by the thought of it, I incline my head yes.

          "Another wish, but again only if you are in agreement. My wife would like to dress as a man and watch us while we're in my bedroom. After we finish, I would take her to her room, and you would go back to yours."

I had to think about this. But, after all, I had been in situations like this but with men.

* * *

Jason brings me upstairs after I consent to his wishes.

          "Wait here in my room."

He walks back with, if I didn't know it was a woman, would be another man.

She lies down on the bed and turns to us.

* * *

Jason is removing his clothes.

"Discard your clothing as I'm doing."

I find it hard to do, uncomfortable with her staring at us like she is. My dick is so hard right now my pants aren't comfortable.

If I am going to do this might as well do it right, and when all my clothes are off, I turn to the bed and take cock in hand and stroke, all the while looking at her/him.

Jason laughs,"you're getting the hang of this."

He pulls two chairs to each other so that his wife gets a good side view of us, and sits in one. His hand is already lubing his rigid shaft.

Hell, I'm going to come quickly!

Showing my back to him, he slicks up my ass crack and reaches under to lube my cock.

One hand pulls me down to him as his other is lining up his cock with my crack. His arm reaches around and lightly circles my hard cock, already wet with pre-come.

          "Move like you did the other night," he tells me. 

I sit on him and feel his cock slide up my ass crack, and when I slightly stand my cock goes into his open fist and he pulls down on my stiff cock.

Back down onto his lap and as I get up one finger slides into my ass hole.

"Ohh, ahh, I can't take this."

I'm in a daze, every part of me is shaking, I look over at the woman/man on the bed and shiver, moan, cry out as my come flows over and over Jason's hand.

Suddenly I sense warm liquid on my ass and balls.

* * *

Jason gently removes his finger, pushes me up and taking his wife's hand they leave the bedroom.

* * *

I have to sit in the chair for a few because my legs won't carry me.

Finally, I pick up the clothes, head to my room, shower and go to sleep.

I don't see Jason's wife after that night.

* * *

We find out that there's a boat leaving for England in two days. Rushing to get all the things I would need leaves no time to do much.

Franklin does come to the house. We say our goodbyes and promise to keep in touch.

I even asked if he wanted sex, but he declined.

* * *

Jason comes to my room each night, and we performed fellatio with each other, slow and with great satisfaction. He never pushes for more.

* * *

Farewells are said,and I board the ship, on my way to England and home.

* * *


	6. Back In England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock comes back to England.

Once I've settled back into my house I take the carriage to see Frederick. He is so surprised to see me in England so soon. 

          " Did Mister Moriarity come with you?"

          "He's still in America. It was a disaster. He turned out to be a Jekyll and Hyde. After he beat me once too much I left. I had great friends that helped me out."

          "When you are ready, tell me the details."

I do, sitting with tea and biscuits.

* * *

          "Thank goodness for Mister Rockefeller and Mister De Marco for being so kind ."

* * *

          "Frederick, I'm not going to any more of these fan parties. Don't get me wrong. Some of the men are, were, wonderful. I find it stressful."

* * *

          "I now need to stop at my brother's house. I'm sure he knows I'm back in England."

          "Go Sherlock, and know that I'll always be here for you."

With kisses and hugs, I leave his house and travel to Mycroft.

* * *

          "Well, little brother, your adventure turned sour I see."

          "Please Mycroft, don't make it worse than it is. I feel very idiotic at this moment."

With a deep sigh, he asks,"what do you need me for?"

          "I could use a loan to pay back someone who helped me. The money will come back to you within a few months."

          "And who is this illustrious person?"

          "I think you know him. He's Jason Rockefeller."

          "My, little brother, you traveled in high circles very quickly. Encounter him at one of the fan parties, I suppose?"

          "Details not necessary Mycroft. Leave it that he helped me out of a terrible situation."

          "Let me know how much and I will wire the amount to him. Would you like some dinner while here?"

          "That would be nice as long as we don't go into details about myself and Moriarity."

* * *

Dinner is served in the sitting room casual style.

          "Where is Doctor Watson?" noting his absence.

          " John and I parted company about a month ago. He told me he was interested in someone else and was waiting for him." 

With an analytical, searching look he asks," Who do you think that could be?"

I sit still, very puzzled.

          "But Mycroft, we hardly knew each other. If you are referring to me, that is. And I notice by your looks that is exactly what you are inferring."

"Yes Sherlock, he latched onto you very early. Kept asking questions about you."

          "I admit I admired him but, Mycroft, I did nothing to goad or sway him toward me."

          "I know. You were preoccupied with others at that time. I have no idea where he is at the moment. I've had my men looking for him. I'll let you know where he is as soon as found."

"I don't think that's required. I'm not that eager to meet up with him."

Mycroft gives me that over the nose look and keeps quiet about it the rest of the evening.

* * *

Days later I get a request for a fan party from one of the members. I do not intend going. Mycroft informs me he will attend and if I am still interested his carriage will pick me up. I decline the invitation.

* * *

The night of the party I am comfortably dressed in a shirt, pants and dressing gown when the bell rings. 

Thinking it Mycroft trying to persuade me to join him I answer the door myself.

There stands Doctor John Watson. My heart does a skipping beat as I remember this blonde, good-looking man.

          "Come in," I stutter.

Entering and looking at me unwaveringly he asks in an almost whisper, "Am I invited here or are you just being polite?"

          "No, no come in. Just a surprise to see you," and I lead him into the drawing room.

* * *

He is dressed very simply in brown pants, a tan shirt, and coat which he removes upon sitting on the couch.

          "Mycroft has been looking for you," sitting across from him.

          "Yes I know, I contacted him this afternoon."

          "Oh, forgive me, do you want a drink, some tea maybe?"

          "No, thank you. Sherlock, I'm going to be very frank. I have heard about your escapades at all these fan parties and such. And, since I am not the exhibitionist type I was hoping you would accommodate my fantasy."

Folding my hands in my lap to hide my growing erection I look directly into his face, the firelight from the fireplace illuminating it in a most alluring, seductive way.

          "What fantasy is that and why me? You know I am not attending tonight's party? I'm through with all of those types of soirees."

          "Sherlock, oh, Sherlock," he lets out a small laugh.

          "I've wanted you since the first party we went to when I was attached to the professor. But we both had other interests and mentors, such as they were. My fantasy has always been to be with you."

I stand up and pace the room, my thoughts in shambles.

But, before I can do much else John is up, turning me to look at him, he reaches for my face, pulls it down and kisses me full force.

His body now so close to me, clutching at him, my kisses return his with my tongue pushing into his mouth, his groaning a signal he is feeling the same. Our tongues meet, we suck on them, pulling them into our mouths.

* * *

Both of us pull away, pulling in breaths.

          "Sherlock, this is not the way I want it."

          "I know. I want more than sex from you. Come into the kitchen and let's have some tea and discuss what we do want."

* * *

Tea made we sit in the kitchen at the table while I hunt in the cabinets and finds us some biscuits to munch on.

          "Sherlock, I want a friendship first. If the sex never comes, then that's all right with me."

I nod my head and with my eyes down," I think I can even grow to love you. My attraction to you was more than sexual."

          "Well, then, why not? Let's give this a try."

          "John, would you move in with me and let the chips fall where they may?"

          "Yes, Sherlock."

We both stand, lean over the table and kiss.

          "Let's keep it to just kissing. No sex for now."

"

          "Good idea."


	7. A Menace Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty returns to England

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding another chapter or two at the request of a fan.

John Watson and I have been living together for two years now, and everything is going well.

I'm working with the local police solving some of their cases. John has his medical practice. We are still residing at my house in London.

* * *

One evening when dinner is over, and all is quiet by the fire in the drawing room there's a knock on the door.

Our servant answers but there is a great commotion in the hall.

* * *

Both John and I stand and head out to see what is going on, and to my great surprise, James Moriarty comes crashing into where we are, the servant at his back.

* * *

          "Sorry, sirs, but-"

          "That's ok," I answer nervously, "You may go."

          "Jim, You're back,"calmly, on the outside, but inwardly I'm edgy. Not sure what this man is up to.

John looks at me, then Jim, "Is this?"

          "Yes, Doctor Watson. James Moriarty at your service." And Jim mock bows.

* * *

          "It seems you like crashing into my home. What is the reason this time?"

Trying to keep composed outwardly.

          "Gentlemen," he puts out his hands in supplication," Is this how you treat a guest?"

          "Sherlock, do you want to throw him out?"

His pitying eyes on me and then turning to Jim, he answers him with a biting sound,"You are not a guest in this house."

Jim ignores John and watches me, a roguish demeanor, waiting.

          "Oh but, I have a gift for Mister Holmes," the mister emphasized, he pulls out of his coat pocket something I'm very familiar with. It is my fan from America.

* * *

Holding it in his outstretched hand he also produces a paper.

I know full well what that means. As does John because he makes a snorting sound.

          "You know, damn you, we will accept no invites from you, Mister Moriarty!"

          "John, please, a moment with Mister Moriarty?"

          "Sherlock?" he looks incredulously at me.

          "John, please?" and I give him a look that permits no questions asked.

John stands in defiance. Moriarty is in his glory watching us.

          "John, if you don't give us a moment alone then I will be forced go outside the house with Mister Moriarty."

John takes up his military posture and walks out. I know he is ripping mad.

* * *

          "Now, Jim, would you sit and tell me what disagreeable undertaking has brought you to my doorstep?"

          "I'm merely inviting you to my fan party. At my place."

Both of us are still standing, neither giving the other the advantage of looking down on our visage.

* * *

          " I did not know you were back in England."

          "I've been back ten months. And stop trying to change the subject. Are you coming?"

          "If I refuse? Which I am doing, by the way?"

          "You know me. I will find a way to make your life miserable."

          "But you will anyway, even if I go to this party of yours. What makes me think you won't continue to haunt me?"

          "But that's what makes our lives, Sherlock. We have an obsession with each other. Even though you claim not to, I look at your trousers and see it."

There is on Jim's face his usual smirk, smug look.

* * *

The evidence is right there in the pajama bottoms I'm wearing. The pyramiding of the thin fabric. Damn him! I'm both fascinated and repelled by him.

I reluctantly take the fan and paper.

          "I'll go, but, don't include Doctor Watson in any of these."

          "What, that strait-laced, priggish man? No, never would think of it. See you there, Mister Holmes." 

He mockingly says as he walks out.

* * *

Upstairs in our bedroom, John is sitting up in bed and puts the book down to look at me.

          "Sherlock, what the fuck is the matter with you? I know damn fucking well you're going to that party."

I sit on the edge of the bed, head down, having a hard time reconciling myself to the draw Jim has on me.

          "John, John, you know how part of you loves the danger of what we do? How, after each case, we both are so sexually aroused? Unfortunately, that's what happens when Jim is around me. I'm drawn to him as he is to me."

          "So that means you're going to fuck that man and do his bidding, even though you know it's not right? When we've been lovers all this time? And faithful to each other? And it's the last thing I want you to do? Have you no self-control?"

His fists are tightly closed around the blanket.

I do not answer. I can't.

John gets up from the bed, taking his book. "Well, Mr. bloody Holmes, you can sleep alone."  
And he disappears into one of the other bedrooms.

* * *


	8. Another Jim Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Sherlock have another round. John is furious. Sherlock is determined to get Jim out of his life.

Our house is tense and quiet. Neither of us is talking to each other. John in anger and hurt, me in shame and regret. I think about not going. But-he tempts me. A bee to a flower.

* * *

The night of the party, John is nowhere to be found in the house. I suspect he is out drinking with Mike Stamford one of his buddies.

* * *

I dress in my tight brown pants, a white shirt, dark green and gold vest with a dark green coat. My curly hair has been slightly tamed with some product, but I know it won't last.

John has taken the carriage, and that means I am on my own as far as transportation.

* * *

Having never visited Jim Moriarty's house I find it very imposing. The house is on the outskirts of London, surrounded by many trees. It sits back from the road, two large columns flanking the door to the two-story, white house.

On entering, the butler takes my hat and cane and leads me to an upstairs suite. There I find other nine other gentlemen. The suite is dressed in all in dark red, from walls to furniture.

* * *

Jim walks into the room dressed in all dark red. 

          "Welcome gentlemen. Tonight enjoy! I have flannels placed on the tables with lube and condoms. Please don't soil my furniture. Anything goes."

* * *

He nods to me, ignores and wanders the room chatting with different men.

A short, bald man stands by me. Fan held in hair closed ( _touch my bulging trousers_ )

I reach down and fondle him through the material. His breathing increases and he takes his fan held up waving ( _kiss me open mouthed_ )

Motioning him to a love seat my mouth closes on his and tongues collide, lips move on lips.

          "You are not aroused at all. Do you want to continue?"

          "No, not really."

My disgust showing plainly in my stance and voice.

          "Would you tug me off?"

I oblige the man and take a flannel from the table to cup around my hand.

Finished with him I see Jim. He's standing up, trousers around his ankles, being sucked on.

He waves a hand to me, and I join him.

Pulling the man away by the hair, "Sir, let this man join you in sucking me."

Without question, I go down on my knees, and each of us has a side we lick on. Now I am fully erect, sickened by this.

Jim is moaning and can't stand still. He pulls away from both of us, looks me in the eye and, no fan in hand, tells the other man, "I want to watch you suck him off now, before me."

* * *

I start to unbutton, and Jim says, with a sly note in his voice, "Let me present you to him."

He leans down, undoes the buttons and with his hand takes out my cock and places it in his palm. His face turned to the stranger kneeling, "Here is one delicious cock to work into your mouth. Take it, but don't let him come."

* * *

And still, on his knees he watches my dick being licked and handled.

>  
Oh, this is, what to say! My cock wants one thing, and one thing only, my mind is trying to shut this weakness down, but it can't.

As Jim sees me getting ready he pulls my dick out from the man's mouth, holding it gently.

          "Don't come. Not yet, my pet, my lover."

I see him beckoning to another gent, and he walks over as Jim signals for him to put my dick in his mouth. Two more times my dick is entered into a man's mouth without coming until I have to lie on the floor I'm so weak from wanting and not getting a release.

* * *

          "Now my darling, you are mine. You'll let me enter your ass and fuck you, and then you can come."

He turns me around, onto my stomach, takes off both his and any of my clothing that will hamper us, reaches up for the lube and condom.

He lubes his dick, my ass hole and inserts three fingers into me, lubing me up well.

Tears are streaming down my face. My humiliation complete, or at least I think so.

In front of all the onlookers, who are all watching us, he inserts his cock slowly finding a rhythm, moving inside me.

Praying this ends now, his coming is marked with spasms and quick squeaks.

* * *

Pulling out he throws my trousers under me, pulls hard on my cock making me come, on my shirt and his hand.

* * *

My eyes stay shut, and my head is turned to the side.

          "My dear, get up and take a bow."

          "No," I shout, fully debased.

* * *

One of the men speaks up.

          "Jim, don't torment him. Leave him be. He's had enough."

* * *

Jim acquiesces, but after I'm up and dressing he whispers in my ear.

          "I'm not finished with you. You'll have to pay for not obeying me tonight."

My voice quivering, disgusted with myself, "Jim, please let me go. Get out of my life and head."

          "No, darling boy, I'm part of you, and you're part of me."

Without another word, I leave the house, and a carriage takes me home, into a lonely bed where I toss and turn all night.

* * *


	9. Trying to Find a Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Frederick, Mycroft team up to help Sherlock

I receive an invitation to dinner with Frederick for tomorrow night and accept. Glad to have someone to talk to about my situation. Dressing in simple clothes, I head out in the carriage without informing John where I'm headed.

* * *

          "Frederick, how good to see you and thanks for the dinner invitation."

          "My pleasure, it's been awhile."

* * *

A fulfilling meal occurs with wine and good talk and after we head into the library where Frederick pours us a good brandy.

* * *

          "Sherlock, we have to talk about your obsession with this Moriarty fellow. What's driving it?"

Distressed and flustered that he knows without my saying a word to him yet.

          "How do you know about it?"

          "Ir's the talk of the gay community. He's let it be known that you are his property, so to speak."

* * *

I can't say a word; I'm ashamed and disgusted with myself. All I do is sit there with my head hanging.

          "Come on Sherlock, talk to me."

Very self-conscious about this I try.

          "He's the side of me that I try to keep hidden. The lowest part, forbidden, immoral, corrupt side of me. He's everything I want to be and everything I hate that is hidden in me. I'm so drawn to him that I'll do anything to be near him."

          "In other words, Sherlock, he's like your former drug habit."

          "Yes, Frederick, that's the truth in it. And just as my drugs destroyed my life in the past that's what's happening now. John Watson is not talking to me. I wouldn't be surprised if he moves out soon."

* * *

          "I imagine no amount of persuasion will keep him away from you, including a sum of money."

          "No, I'm his obsession also."

Tears are falling now, and Frederick stands to hand me a handkerchief.

          "Will you let John and I put our heads together to see if there is a solution?"

          "I don't know what to do, what to say. Anything, if it will help, I'd appreciate it."

          "Sherlock, would it offend you if I offered myself and my bed for tonight, to hold on to me in warmth and as friends?"

          "I'd love it, Frederick."

* * *

Undressing he gives me a pair of his pajamas, no sleeping in the nude tonight. He cuddles me, and I sleep very well, right into late morning.

* * *

Frederick was already up and gone when I opened my eyes. I shower and dress, and the servant has a light breakfast for me.

* * *

My house is quiet, and I'm able to spend a moderately settled afternoon.

* * *

Things change when John opens the door in the evening.

          "Sherlock, how about a light dinner and let's consider this situation?"

          "Good," although my heart is hammering hard.

* * *

John gives the chef an order for a small buffet set in the sitting room.

He goes upstairs to get comfortable, and I sit and read the newspaper he brought home. Truth be told, I couldn't tell you what I read.

* * *

We pick food from the sideboard and sit at one of the small tables in the room.

          "Sherlock, where were you all last night?"

          "I went to Frederick for advice. And that's all."

I didn't dare tell him we slept together because he wouldn't believe it was just that, sleeping.

          "Damn," putting down his plate and standing, "you couldn't come to me?"

I look up at him incredulously.

          "You wouldn't talk, wouldn't acknowledge me in this house! What was I supposed to do, tie you up?"

          "Ha, look at who's talking about tying up? Does do that? Your sex partner, Moriarty?"

          "That's it!"

I shove past him and out the door and out of the house.

Grabbing my carriage man and getting in I tell the driver just to go around town.

* * *

At the same moment, I leave the house Mycroft walks to the door unseen by me. Wasting no time he marches into the residence and finds John.

          "What are you doing here?"

          "Shut up John and listen to me. I have this house under surveillance. I have men watching constantly. Moriarty has been stalking Sherlock, and this is now a serious matter. Moriarty's involved with some terrorist groups. He thinks he's above being harmed, but he double-crossed one of the leaders. Sherlock is in grave danger."

          "Serves him right," John scoffs.

Mycroft taps his cane on the floor twice. "Doctor John Watson, stop this nonsense right now! I don't care if you never see my brother again, but as long as you are in this domicile of his, you will see to his well being. Do you comprehend?"

John picks up his plate, squares his shoulders, and asks," You're right. I lost my temper just now and he walked out. What do I have to do?"

He and Mycroft sit and discuss the urgency of the matter.

* * *

All of a sudden my carriage stops. We're under a street lamp, and I call the driver to discover the problem, a figure emerges from the shadows. 

The door opens, and a man jumps into the cab, tells the driver to move on.

          "Jim, what in the world-?"

          "Did you know your fucking brother has your house under guard? Against me?"

          "I know nothing about it. Why would Mycroft do that?"

          "Doesn't matter," as his lips try to seek mine. 

I move away; his hands pull me towards him, maneuvering me, turning me, so our lips touch.

          "Hmm," I moan into his open mouth.

          "Sherlock, you'll always want me."

I yank myself away.

          "I'm going to America again, this time to stay. I want you with me."

          "You ignored and abused me the last time. That's why I left."

          "Never again. I'll be yours. I'll take care of you. I'm begging you, dearest, come with me."

And again his hand moves to my hardness, and he unbuttons me, with no resistance again from me.

          "Jim, Jim, oh god, oh fuck."

Leaning into me he sucks, licks and accomplishes his goal.

I agree to join him, the drug of him so prominent, so compelling, so potent.

He leaves as he came and I drive home.


	10. The Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major character death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone will be killed.

After the drive in the carriage, I head upstairs to find John still awake and sitting in bed reading.

          "John, I'm leaving. Don't ask me any questions because I'm not answering. I'm not coming back. I'll have instructions made up for selling my house and all of its furnishings."

          "It's late. Calm down. I'm sorry I blew up at you. Get some sleep, and we'll see what happens in the morning."

I find my suitcase and begin to pack a few things with the intention of heading off to Jim's place. I know that if I stay here, persuasion will begin and I'm not going to listen.

John jumps out of bed and hastily begins to dress.

          "What are you doing? Why are you dressing?"

          "I'm going out and don't ask me where? If you can disappear into the night then so can I."

He leaves before I finish my packing. When outside I see he has taken the carriage.

I manage, even at this late hour, to find one to take me to Jim.

* * *

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the door of Mycroft's home, I push my way in yelling for Mycroft.

          "John, what's happened?"

As he comes down the steps from the bedroom, dressed in a robe and pajamas, I'm frantically trying to speak.

          "I think, no I know, Sherlock is on his way to Jim's. For good."

          "I'll be dressed quickly."

Back up the stairs and I pace the hallway, wringing my hands, tearing through my hair.

Into Mycroft's two-seater carriage that he drives, pushing the horse as fast as it can go.

* * *

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pushing my way past the butler who answers my furious knocking, Jim is in the drawing room, still dressed, going over papers.

          "I'm here. I'll be staying here until you leave. I'm not going back to my house."

          "Good. I'm leaving tomorrow, Just getting my papers together. You can sit or head upstairs to bed. I'll be awhile."

I sit and watch him. Already wanting to take him into my arms and have him sexually ravish me.

* * *

There's a huge commotion at the front door, and again before the butler can stop them, Mycroft and John burst into the room.

          "Sherlock, I've come to take you back to where you belong," Mycroft snaps out in brisk hard words.

Jim just smirks, his eyes boring down into me.

          "Tell them dear boy, tell them that you're here of your own free will. That you're going with me to America."

          "John, Mycroft," I choke out. 

          "Please, let me do this. Let me out of your hair once and for all."

          "Moriarty, I'm taking my brother, by force if needed, out of your grasp."

Mycroft advances on me as I stand and grab Jim's arm.

Jim's hand reaches out to the desk, and his fingers find the sharp letter opener, which goes to my neck under my curly hair, as I'm pulled closer to him. His arm around my waist.

          "I will do this. He is mine. Back off!"

I see John pull out the gun he always carries and points it at Jim.

Jim cackles loudly,"Oh you wouldn't, would you? Risk hitting your little Sherlock?"

Suddenly I can't take this any longer. I let out a cry!

          "My addiction! You! No more!"

I lunge out of Jim's arms and fall to my knees on the floor.

Hearing a shot ring out I see Jim fall, and I scramble to him.

Feeling for a pulse, not finding one, realizing that John killed Jim I cry out.

          "Why? Why?"

And, covering Jim with my body, I sob into his shirt.

* * *

Mycroft lifts me off, my body racked with heavy sobs, holding me tight.

Stepping away from me, he hands me to John. He arms wrap around me.

          "Take him home. I'll have something sent over to calm him down. Take care of him, John."

* * *

It's now been months since that last encounter with Jim Moriarty. Through it all my faithful friend, lover, and confidant, John Watson has been with me.


End file.
